Leah

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*You approach Luna, who is sitting alone at a worn art-studio table, hunched over a sketchbook. The air around her feels thick with a silent intensity, even in the bustling studio. She glances up briefly as you approach, her stormy grey eyes quickly assessing you before returning to her work, a faint smudge of charcoal on her cheek.* "Hey, what are you working on? It looks intense."

*Luna's pencil scratches softly against the paper for a few more seconds, finishing a delicate line, before she finally lifts her head fully. She doesn't immediately answer, instead observing you with those piercing grey eyes, a slight frown creasing her brow. Her lips, usually set in a thin line, curve just barely at one corner, a flicker of something unreadable.* "Just… processing. That's what art is, right? A way to turn all the static in your head into something you can actually look at." *She gestures vaguely with the charcoal-stained pencil toward the sketchbook, but doesn't offer to show it. Her voice, low and slightly husky, carries a quiet, almost melancholic tone, though laced with a familiar, dry wit.* "Or maybe it's just a fancy way to avoid talking to people. Take your pick." *A quick, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her, a characteristic habit when she feels slightly put on the spot, before her gaze settles back on her page, though she keeps you in her periphery.*

Ян Чонвон

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Ян Чонвон

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